


Journeys End In Lovers Meeting

by evol_love



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Kid Fic, Multi, Nonbinary Character, The Holiday AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evol_love/pseuds/evol_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie just found out their ex-boyfriend is getting married. Chris just broke up with her boyfriend. One house swap later, and they find that perhaps Christmas is the perfect time to start again. a The Holiday au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journeys End In Lovers Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phonecallfromgod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/gifts).



> This is a slightly belated Christmas gift for my amazing girlfriend, Anna. I hope she likes it, and I hope you do too. I did a seriously absurd amount of research for this, including researching local airports and flights, and straight-up FINDING the house that inspired Charlie's house on a house swap website. However, I do not live in Vermont or Los angeles, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Charlie is nonbinary in this fic and uses they pronouns. I have double and triple checked, as well as have had two AMAZING volunteers (thank you to tumblr users nobodytoldthehorse and causegirlmarie) look the fic over, but if I misgender them at any point, I apologize, it certainly was not intentional. I hope it's easy to follow the story with the pronouns--Chris and Ginny both use she/her/hers and Steven uses he/him/his. 
> 
> Happy holidays!

"I'm such an idiot," Charlie sobs into their wineglass. It's empty but the glass is stained red-violet from its continued use throughout the evening. Gloria strokes their hair soothingly while miserable, angry rap music blasts from Charlie's iPod dock. She's murmuring that they aren't an idiot and of course they’re upset and it's okay to be upset. Charlie just laughs. It comes out horribly bitter. "Gloria, I've been crying and drinking for three days. I think we can skip the lies, no matter how kind you think you're being. This is...this is probably the lowest I have ever been and that's saying _a lot_. I think we can agree at this point I am completely pathetic."

"You really are," Gloria agrees, pulling her hands out of their hair and sitting back on the couch, Charlie's head still in her lap. "I almost texted Ginny to come over but then I realized she'd just make fun of you. And I wouldn't even blame her, you're pitiful."

Charlie scowls and sits up.

"What the fuck? You're the worst friend ever, I don't know why I called you."

Gloria looks at them sadly and _god_ is Charlie tired of being pitied.

"Stop that."

"What?"

"That--looking at me," they say, flailing their hand in her general direction as if to indicate her completely condescending aura of feeling sorry for them.

"I just feel sorry for you," she says, proving their point. They groan and fall back into her lap. She resumes stroking their hair.

"Why didn't he just _tell me_ he was getting married? Don't I deserve that much? He's one of my best friends, and we were--well. I've said this all before."

"You have," Gloria agrees, and they swat at her blindly.

"What do I do?" they ask her finally. They hate how small they sound, but that's how they feel; that's the way all of this feels. Neil makes them feel small, like they’re being suffocated and crushed and shrunk down to nothing, and they hate it, but they’ve somehow tricked themself into thinking they like it, that they like Neil forgetting they are even an ongoing concern.

Because they aren't. Fuck. Charlie can't even believe they’ve fooled themself into thinking Neil still thinks about them, thinks about their relationship at all.

Charlie just lies there thinking for a minute, their eyebrows coming together in concentration. The rap music is doing wonders for their clarity right now, speaking to them from the iPod across the room. "The truth is, I never got off the bus. I still haven't," Childish Gambino finishes, and Charlie sits up in a rush.

"I have to get out of this town," they tell Gloria with a sense of finality that they hadn't felt even as the thought had formed in their mind 30 seconds ago.

Gloria looks startled, but they can see the idea starting to root in her brain too. The barest hint of a smile ghosts the corners of her mouth.

"But where would you go, Charlie?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. Anywhere that isn't here. I just need to not see Neil, not even bump into him by accident. I need to completely get him out of my head so I can go to his fucking wedding and not even fucking care."

Gloria's expression suggests she doesn't think they'll be terribly successful, but she's at least polite enough not to say so. They take back the "worst friend ever" comment—though only mentally, of course. They wouldn't want it to go to her head.

"Why don't you house swap? I did it last year when I went to France and it was way cheaper than if I'd gotten a hotel."

"Gloria, I love you, marry me," Charlie says, kissing the top of her head as they stand up to get their laptop. They almost fall right back down, and they grab her shoulder to steady themself. She doesn't bother hiding her giggles from them.

"Have I actually eaten anything in three days?" they ask her, because they honestly can't remember and they are suddenly so dizzy.

"I've been giving you toast," she assures them. "You've had a fuckton of wine though, Charlie. Please go drink water or I'm going to cry."

"Sorry, _you're_ going to cry? I'm the one whose ex is marrying someone else and didn't even bother to warn me before announcing it," they say, and the hysterical edge to their voice convinces them more than anything to take her advice.  
\-----------------------------  
Knox puts the last suitcase in the car and slams the trunk closed. Chris watches him in the driveway, her arms crossed over her chest. She's surprised to find she doesn't feel angry at all.

"So," he says.

"So."

"That's it, then."

"Yeah."

They stare at each other for a minute, and she isn't sure what she's looking for in his eyes, but she doesn't find it.

"Good bye Knox," she says, and she can't stop herself from hugging him one more time, kissing his cheek as she pulls away. She holds on just a little too tight, a little too long. He catches her arm and looks at her. The apology she couldn't see before is there now.

"Take care of yourself, Chris. I know you will."

"I will," she confirms. "You'll be okay without me. You'll be wooing someone in no time," she says, smiling, and he chuckles.

"Love you," he says, and it's startling but also somehow not surprising at all. It's so _Knox_ of him.

"Love you too," she says. And then he gets into the car and he drives away.

She stands in the driveway for a long time trying to figure out how it was so quiet. In the movies, when people break up and move out and move on, it's always loud. People yell and throw things, they say things they don't mean and can't take back, they light things on fire and drive away in a rage. It's bitter and violent or tragic and desperate. There should be begging, they should be fighting to be together, or to be apart.

But Chris' life has never been like the movies. Why should it start now?

Knox had always lived everything like a Hallmark card. Chris _wanted_ that, that's part of the reason she'd been so attracted to him. She had wanted to live the rose-tinted life he did. She'd wanted to be his leading lady, to have the big grand kiss and the swell of music, fade to black, credits roll.

It turns out life doesn't fade to black after everything is perfect. It keeps going, and if you haven't thought through the parts after the credits, you're going to be very disappointed.

Chris always thought having a scene after the credits was a cheap shot anyway.

It wasn't Knox's fault that he could live life like a romcom while she just watched and wanted to. And in the end, they had both agreed that it wasn't working out and they should probably split. There weren't even any hard feelings; Chris almost hates him for it, that even now she can't get swept up into a melodramatic conclusion.

Chris walks back inside and feels...nothing. She isn't upset at all, what is wrong with her? All she can do is look around at how empty the house suddenly feels. Their pictures no longer decorate the walls, Knox's ridiculous suits are no longer in the closet, his favorite blanket is no longer draped over the couch. It's honestly depressing.

Her phone rings then, the opening notes of Vitamin String Quartet's cover of "Bad Romance" telling her it's Steven. The ringtone is both a compromise and a joke--Chris refused to have boring film score on her phone and Steven refused to be signified by the shitty pop music that makes up Chris's entire music library. He finally relented and allowed instrumental covers of her favorite songs to be considered. She chose Lady GaGa mostly to spite him, since he is constantly reminding her " I'm not a 'Born This Way' gay, Chris, get off my ass."

"What is it babe?" she asks after picking up the phone.

"Well, I was going to make sure you were alright, but you actually sound scarily okay, so I'm just going to ask if you've gotten the final cut approved yet."

She huffs indignantly; too often she's been accused of being, to quote a quickly-fired-intern from the editing department, "a frigid bitch." Steven has always understood her better than the others at work though.

"Yeah," she sighs finally, feeling very exhausted suddenly. "Wanna come over and watch it, make sure your baby is synced up perfectly before it airs?"

"I'll be there in ten," he answers. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She pauses to think about it, looks deep inside herself and assesses every facet of her being. "Yeah," she says, and tries not to sound completely pissed off about it. "See you in ten."

Chris channel surfs until Steven walks in--he doesn't bother knocking anymore--and wordlessly hands her a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream. She takes it suspiciously.

"You've been eating this too," she accuses, popping the lid off and finding she's right. "Oh honey, why didn't you tell me he-"

"Let's just watch the trailer, Chris," he says over her, and she decides that far be it from her to take away from someone else's pain. Someone should get to be sad and moody after breaking up with their boyfriend.

She settles on the couch, setting the ice cream on the coffee table, Steven next to her, and pulls up the final cut of their latest movie trailer collaboration.

The trailer is perfect, of course, because Chris is the best in the business. It’s fast paced and barely tells you anything, but teases you just enough to want more. And Steven’s music brings the whole thing to life, giving her goosebumps even though she’s watched nothing but this trailer for at least a month.

“You’re fucking brilliant,” she breathes in awe.

“Well, I’m no John Beal,” he says, but they both know the trailer score is perfect, edgy in the right spots and poignant in others. She refused to work with anyone else years ago.

"So, wanna work with me again?" she teases, poking him in the stomach. It's what she had said to him the first time he'd composed score for a trailer for her, and she's been saying it ever since. But Steven doesn't laugh this time, he looks serious and it's freaking her out. "What?"

"Chris, I think you need to take a break," he tells her.

"What?" she repeats.

"I mean it. You spend so much of your life watching other people's dream lives play out on screen that you're forgetting about your own. You used to tell me you wanted to be a mom, or change the world, or get filthy rich young and never work again. What happened to Chris the dreamer?"

"She grew up."

He looks disappointed in her, and it makes her insides turn into writhing serpents.

"Fine. What do you suggest?" she relents.

"Get out of town for a little bit. Do some mindless shopping, buy a dog, fall in love, drink expensive wine. Forget about your job for, I don’t know, two, three weeks. Give yourself time to heal.”

Chris just looks at him in wonder. “How are you single, again?” Steven rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, sorry, I know that’s a sore spot. Cheating ex-boyfriends excluded of course. Fine. That actually sounds like a really good idea.” She leans forward and pulls her laptop off the coffee table, firing up Chrome and googling “easy vacations.” Steven snorts as he reads over her shoulder. After deliberating different sites, Chris finally selects a house swap site that looks not-shady.

“So...Napa Valley?” she asks, fingers hovering over the keyboard ready to type it into the search bar. Steven frowns at her.

“Chris the whole point is to get away. Please at least go to a different state.”

“So determined to get rid of me,” she sighs, but she sees his point. “I’ll show you ‘a different state,’” she says, and types in a search for the East coast of the states. “I’ve been meaning to go to Cape Cod.”

“Don’t they have hurricanes or something there?” Steven asks.

“And we have earthquakes. I’m equally likely to die in freak nature disasters anywhere I go.” She scrolls through her options a moment. “All these houses belong to old people,” she whines. “I don’t want to go somewhere filled with knitwear and the scent of cats that never truly fades.” She broadens her search topics. “I’ve never been to Vermont,” she says, considering it.

“What the fuck is in Vermont?” Steven asks.

“Trees? Syrup? I don’t know. It’s a change from LA though. And look how cute this place is,” she adds, blowing up the photo of the pretty yellow house surrounded by trees and greenery.

Steven is beaming. “It looks like you,” he says in awe. It makes something in her chest twist uncomfortably. When did she become someone different than the Chris that Steven had befriended? Sure, she was a bit more practical now, but she had barely gotten started with her career when she met Steven, and some growing up was only to be expected. She keeps clicking through the photos and falls a little in love with the pond in the backyard, the rocky path leading into the woods, the porch that reminds her of old time-y movies where people sat in rocking chairs and snapped beans while talking about their childhoods.

“Look at you,” he says, nudging her with his shoulder, and she can feel the silly grin on her face. “You’re lighting up.”

“It’s really beautiful,” she agrees. She hesitates a moment longer, then sends the homeowner a message.

_LOVE your place. I’m very interested--is it available for the holidays?_

She holds her breath, holding onto Steven’s hand so tightly he lets out an “ow!” and she lets go.

“Sorry. I just...I have my heart set on this now, I think it’s the perfect thing to get over Knox.”

“Well, you might not get a reply instantly, Chris, be patient.” Of course, the second he says it, the laptop pings and a reply appears.

_It is but I’m only interested if it’s a swap--where are you located?_

_LA_

_SHIT. HOW SOON CAN I COME?_

Chris laughs. Nothing had felt this right since she and Knox first kissed.

_...is tomorrow too soon?_

_Hell no. I’m kind of avoiding an ex so the sooner the better..._

_No way! Me too!_

_I’m literally looking up flights right now. I’m Charlie, by the way._

_I’m Chris. Uhm, I’m a girl, because that isn’t clear. Not that it matters._

_I’m who even knows what the fuck. Not that it matters._

_:) We can discuss details later, I’m gonna go pack._

_I like you, girl Chris. I feel like we should have a super secret “i hate men” handshake or something._

_GO BUY YOUR DAMN FLIGHT I WANT TO MOVE IN ASAP._

_I’m leaving tonight at 11. I will love you and owe you forever._

_Same to you darlin’. Same to you._  
\----------------------------------------  
Charlie's flight is nice enough. There's a loud kid behind them and a bickering couple in front of them, but it's okay. They just plug in their headphones and pass out.

It's an incredibly rude awakening when they turn their phone back on upon landing and are greeted by a text from Neil. Their heart races, and they debate deleting it unread, but they’re weak, and they know they’re weak.

_Hey, look, I should have said something and I'm sorry. You didn't have to leave, though. Can I call you when you arrive?_

"Be strong Dalton, be strong," they chant through their teeth as they type a shaky reply.

_Neil, you and I both know I need to fall out of love with you. If not for me, then for Todd's sake, just leave me alone._

They had not been planning to cry before even getting out of the airport, but Neil isn't making this easy. Charlie turns their phone off again, and leaves it off. Ginny's the only one they want to talk to at all, and if she really needs them, she has Chris's landline.

Shaking themself off, mentally and physically, they take a deep breath and walk through the terminal and out of the airport.  
\----------------------------  
Chris swallows an Airborne and debates for a few moments if sleeping pills and Airborne mixed will kill her. She ends up taking her chances and downs the pills and her complimentary water. Thank fuck First Class makes it so easy to recline and sleep. Chris hasn't been conscious on a plane in at least six years.

She blinks back into awareness a few minutes before the plane makes its descent, and she fixes her hair and smoothes out her clothes. It isn't that she has anyone to see and impress, she just likes to exude a constant aura of "I am better than you, and hot as hell."

She has her bags (she limited herself to her carry-on and one checked bag, which is a miracle. She can shop in town though) and is out the doors in under ten minutes. She waits for a cab and finds her mind drifting back to beaches and movie trailers and Knox. No. If she must, she can think about work and life once she's at Charlie's house. For now, she'll focus on the journey.  
\----------------------------------  
Charlie double checks the address Chris gave them twice, because no way in hell did they manage to land a house like this in exchange for their place. But no, this is definitely Chris’ house.

“Shit,” they say cheerfully, staring up at the enormous home in front of them. They walk in and almost walk right back out, because they feel like they’re going to somehow break everything in this house just by being in it. Everything is pristine and gives off an aura of costing more than Charlie’s entire home.

 _you didn't tell me u live in a freaking castle_ Charlie texts Chris before shutting their phone off again.

They wind up flopping down on the bed upstairs and putting on Hallmark movies, because nothing says “I am pitifully attempting to forget that Neil Perry broke my fucking heart” like made-for-tv Christmas films.  
\----------------------------------  
Three hours and ten bottles of wine in her shopping cart later, Chris is a bit...on edge. She’s starting to think maybe it was a stupid idea, coming here, just shoving everything aside to take a break from life. Maybe other people can do that, but she can’t. She has things she should be doing.

But she promised Steven she’d take a vacation and she knows how disappointed he’ll be if she comes back early.

So instead she elects to get drunk and watch shitty reality tv and criticize all the trailers that come on in the ad breaks. It’s better than therapy.

It’s around midnight when someone pounds on the front door, making Chris jump in surprise in the kitchen. She puts down the ice cream and wine with regret before going over to peer through the peephole. But as she approaches the door, the person knocks again on the door, this time more forcefully.

“Charlie? I know you’re still awake, please tell me you aren’t still moping over Neil fucking Perry. Let me in and I’ll make you that hangover stuff.”

Chris opens the door with a frown. The person at the door sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re...not my step brother,” she says.

“No,” Chris agrees. The woman at the door has curly dark hair and a dark blue coat, and she looks so completely lost at the sight of Chris that she doesn’t know whether to be charmed or insulted.

“Am I dead?” the woman asks after a pause. “Shit. That was about to turn into a seriously shitty angel-related pick-up line. Fuck.” She slaps a hand to her forehead and closes her eyes a moment, apparently trying to collect her thoughts, and Chris decides on charmed, smiling a little. “I’ll just, I’ll go,” she says, starting to turn around.

“You can come in,” Chris offers. “I mean, you’ve got more claim to the place anyway, seeing as you and Charlie are related.”

“Step-siblings,” she says absently. “Not to be rude, but...why are you here? I mean, I know Charlie, and I know they didn’t move on that quickly, so you’re definitely not fucking them. You’re out of their league anyway,” she adds. “So who are you?”

“I’m Chris. Charlie and I did a house swap for the holidays.”

“They definitely did not mention that.”

“It was pretty sudden,” Chris concedes.

“Oh, I’m Ginny, by the way,” the woman says with a smile, extending her hand for Chris to shake.

“Here, come in,” Chris says. She steps aside for Ginny to duck inside to warm up before closing the door behind them both.

Chris would like to pretend she isn’t extremely attracted to Ginny right now, but it’s not really working out. This is _not_ what she is supposed to be doing here. She did not go on vacation to hook up with her host’s sister.

“So,” Ginny says brightly, all but throwing herself onto the couch and turning to look up at Chris. “What made you decide to come to this dump?”

Chris laughs, startled. “This place is gorgeous, what do you mean?”

“I mean, Vermont is no--where did you say you were from?”

“Los Angeles.”

Ginny raises her eyebrows. “Damn, I bet Charlie is having the time of their life.”

“I hope so. It sounds like we’re both sort of going through the same thing.”

“Oh no, is your ex that you never got over marrying someone else too? That’s a hell of a coincidence, honestly.”

“Oh, shit, no, Charlie just said they were getting over an ex, I didn’t realize...shit. I’m so sorry.”

Ginny shrugs. “It’s probably for the best. I knew Neil was never going to get back with them, they were all wrong for each other anyway. At least this way Charlie will be able to move on, let it go, you know?”

“Yeah.” Chris sighs. “Yeah. I just split up with my boyfriend, and it’s been, I don’t know. Weird. Because in some ways I miss having him around, but honestly, I feel so relieved sometimes and I wonder if I’m the most heartless person in the world.” She hasn’t said any of that out loud before, had scarcely admitted it to herself, and she can’t imagine why she’s spilling all of this to a woman she’s just met. She isn’t even drunk, much to her own dismay.

“Not heartless. You were just ready for a change.”

 __“__ Would you like a glass of wine?” Chris offers, going into the kitchen to pour herself some, because she doesn’t want to talk about this. Her chest feels tight and she has the urge to call Steven and beg him to book her a flight home. “God,” she groans, scrubbing a hand over her face and steadying herself by clutching the counter with the other. “I have got to loosen up, seriously,” she mumbles, mostly to herself.

Ginny has followed her into the kitchen, and suddenly she decides, fuck it. Fuck it. Seriously, fuck it all. Chris never lets herself indulge in anything that she deems unproductive. What better time than vacation, right?

“So,” Chris says slowly, turning around to look at Ginny. “I think we should have sex.”  
Ginny’s eyes widen so fast it almost makes Chris laugh out loud, but she is a woman on a mission, dammit.

“Is that so?” Ginny says, and she isn’t even trying to sound casual.

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think that is the best plan I have ever heard,” Ginny answers. “But are you sure you’re not like...crazy drunk right now? Because usually people spend at least an hour with me before fucking me.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Was that a no then?”

“Jesus,” Ginny breathes, and Chris resists actually physically patting herself on the back before tugging Ginny closer and kissing her.

“Which way is the bedroom?” Chris murmurs between kisses. “I haven’t actually looked around the place yet.”

“Fuck,” is all Ginny says, but she guides Chris to the bedroom, scarcely pulling away from her for more than a second at a time.

Ginny kisses roughly, like she doesn't mind bruising Chris if she has to. She pushes Chris down on the bed and climbs over her, a knee pressed between Chris' legs. Chris dimly registers that the sheets are very soft and it's an incredibly comfortable bed before Ginny goes to work unbuttoning Chris' blouse. She retaliates by trying to yank Ginny's own shirt off over her head. They wrestle with each other's clothes a minute before Ginny finally relents and gives Chris the chance to pull her shirt off. Taking advantage of Ginny momentarily letting her guard down, she topples the girl back onto the bed and rolls them so she's on top. Ginny looks a little stunned and Chris smirks.

"Look, I'm used to people looking at me and I'm assuming I'm a little princess who can't handle herself. But let me tell you something." She reaches up Ginny's skirt to pull her panties off, then presses her middle finger inside of her. Ginny's breath catches in her throat, her pupils already blown. Chris leans in and whispers, "I'm always in control," and starts fingering Ginny carefully, gauging her expression. "Is that alright?" Ginny nods enthusiastically, looking for all the world as though Chris has been fucking her for hours.

She adds a finger and Ginny sighs, "Fuck." Chris smiles, relaxing a bit more. This is _exactly_ what she needed.  
\-------------------------------  
Charlie doesn’t come into contact with another human being until day two, when the front doorbell rings.  
“Hi, my name’s Steven Meeks. I’m a friend of Chris’ and I just wanted to check in and make sure you were finding everything okay,” the man at the door says once Charlie opens the door. He’s smiling and he has curly ginger hair and freckles and glasses and Charlie wants to wrap him in a blanket and buy him shiny things immediately.

 __“__ Oh, gosh, thanks,” Charlie says, running a hand through their hair. “Shit. I probably should have like...notified my friends I was leaving and a stranger is staying in my house, huh?”

Steven looks thoughtful, though Charlie suspects he’s just humoring them. “Probably, yeah.”

“Oh well. Maybe Ginny will stop by, I bet she and Chris would get along.” Charlie looks at Steven again. “Do you, uh, do you want to come in? I was just getting breakfast.” Charlie cannot believe how shy they suddenly feel, what the hell.

“Breakfast?” Steven glances at the time on his watch--he wears a watch, Charlie might be a little in love--and says, “It’s nearly one.”

“You clearly don’t know how to live. Besides, I’m on vacation.”

“Fair enough.”

“So?” Charlie presses, nodding inside.

“Uh...yeah, sure.” Steven smiles just a little and steps inside. “So, how are you liking LA? Chris said you were from Vermont, right?”

Charlie snorts, walking into the kitchen with Steven at their heel. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“I’ve heard the East Coast is beautiful,” Steven protests.

“I mean, it is, but try living there. It’s-” Charlie pauses. They literally just met the guy and they’re going to talk about their whole sob story? Whatever, they’re on vacation. Charlie will be back in Vermont in a week anyway. It doesn’t matter. “I’ve lived in Vermont my whole life. Went to the shitty East Coast prep school and everything. I was a goddamn stereotype, I had the trust fund and the shitty dad and I fucking hated it. I hated it. I didn’t really have much in the way of friends,” and here Charlie’s heart slams into their chest because they’re still thinking about Neil, god. “And I always swore to myself I was going to go to California the second I could and. Well, I don’t know. Make a life for myself. I was going to get out of that place and away from those people and start over. But best laid plans and all that.” Charlie realizes they’ve totally zoned out. “Shit, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you right off the bat, I usually wait until I’ve fooled people into thinking I’m cool before I go weeping to them.”

“No, no, not at all,” Steven assures them. “I’m sorry to hear it though.”

Charlie shrugs. “Coffee?”

Steven nods just as his phone rings. “It’s Chris,” he grins, answering it. “Hey Chris. Yeah, I’m at the house right now talking to him.”

Charlie flinches involuntarily at the pronoun, and Steven frowns. Fuck. Of course. It’s not like Steven had known, he hadn’t asked, Charlie hadn’t told him, they shouldn’t get upset about it.

“They definitely don’t seem like a serial killer,” Steven says, watching Charlie carefully. They’re so relieved they could fucking cry. Charlie smiles and nods at him gratefully, and _ _Steven’s face brightens. “Here, I’ll put you on speaker.” Steven presses a button and sets the phone on the counter as Charlie hands Steven his coffee._ _

“Hello?” a high voice says.

“Chris, baby!” Charlie exclaims, and she laughs. “Hey, so I totally forgot to tell people you were coming so if my loser step-sister shows up I apologize.”

There’s a choking sound on the other end, followed by a loud, prolonged crash.

“Chris? Are you being murdered?” Steven asks.

“No, no, shit, sorry,” Chris says. “I’m fine.”

Charlie and Steven exchange a look.

“So how are you liking the house?” Charlie asks, deciding not to press her.

“God, it’s gorgeous Charlie, really. And you?”

“It’s fucking great,” Charlie says, unable to keep from smiling.

“Oh good. Well, I won’t keep you too, just checking in. Behave yourself, Steven!”

“Oh, fuck you,” Steven says, but she’s already hung up.

“You two sound like best friends,” Charlie says. “It’s cute.”

Steven’s face is a little pink and he hides it behind a sip of coffee. “Chris and I have been friends for years. She refuses to work with anyone else.”

That leads to Steven explaining what it is he actually does, and then a more detailed look at how he and Chris work together. Charlie tells him about the publishing company, about the manuscripts and long hours and the red pens. Coffee becomes brunch, which turns into watching some of Chris and Steven’s latest trailers because Charlie’s curious, and they loudly comment throughout all of them, and then that turns into Steven asking Charlie about the whole pronoun thing, which Charlie is relieved to find he’s totally cool about, and then Steven tells Charlie about the boyfriend he just broke up with (Charlie doesn’t mention Neil because Neil doesn’t get to be a part of this), and before they know it, they’re getting dinner together.  
\------------------------------  
Ginny had left her number on the fridge under the guise of “in case you need anything” which Chris took to mean “seriously any time you want to fuck, call me.” Chris has not called her, however. There are so many reasons to not call Ginny, and she lists them to herself every time she picks up the phone.

Chris was looking for something to help her loosen up, not a relationship.  
When Chris woke up the morning after and saw Ginny, still asleep, curled up against her, she realized she wanted to wake up to that again, and again, and again, and again.  
Ginny lives in a completely different state and getting involved with her would be the worst in a long line of bad decisions Chris has made.

 

So she tries to shake Ginny off. Chris goes shopping and is still thinking about her so she stays in and watches tv and she’s still thinking about her so she goes out with the intent of picking up someone else and she’s STILL thinking about her, fuck.

She caves. She calls her.

“Hey, Ginny?”

“Chris?”

“Yeah, I uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come over again tonight?”

There’s a long silence, which is definitely not the response Chris had expected. She wonders if maybe she’s totally blown it by waiting so long to call her back. It wouldn’t be shocking, honestly, Chris has been known to fuck things up like this.

“I actually can’t tonight, god, I’m sorry. I’d love to, please don’t think I’m just blowing you off.”

“Oh.” Chris weighs the options before venturing, “Do you have a date?”

“What?” Ginny laughs, clearly startled, and Chris breathes easy again. “No, god no, if that were the case I’d certainly break it for you.”

“What’s wrong then?” Chris persists, because now she feels fairly confident about her chances. “I could help out, if you tell me.”

Another pause. “My babysitter can’t work tuesdays, so I have to be with the girls tonight.”

“The girls?”

“Yeah, my um, my daughters.”

Oh.

“Oh. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t ask, it’s absolutely none of her business, she’s been nosy enough as it is. “Are you divorced?” She bites her tongue instantly, but honestly, if she allows this to go any further--if she allows herself to go any further--she has to know.

“Widowed, actually,” Ginny says, her voice sounding small for the first time since Chris met her. So yeah, good, Chris has definitely managed to fuck up everything. What else is new. Even on holiday Chris is useless at being a social creature.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says again, because what else is there to say at this point.

“You could come over here, if you wanted to,” Ginny says suddenly, and Chris gets the impression that Ginny has been working up the nerve to say it.

Chris considers. Kids usually don’t like her, and she’s never been terrifically fond of them either. It’s not like they have anything in common. On the other hand, Ginny will be there. Ginny wants her to be there.

“Yeah, alright,” Chris agrees at last.

“Wait, seriously?” Ginny says, sounding stunned, and Chris bites back a laugh. Ginny rattles off her address, which Chris jots down hastily on the back of a nearby piece of paper she hopes wasn’t important.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”  
************************************  
“No, but you absolutely have to play something for me some time, I insist.”

“You’ve heard my stuff, how many of Chris’ trailers have you watched at this point? You must have seen them all.”

“Not the horror movies, fuck horror movies,” Charlie says, taking a sip of beer and wincing. “I don’t want to be drinking this. Why am I drinking this?”

Steven shrugs. “I stopped a long time ago, you’re welcome to join me in the land of the sober.”

Charlie pouts, but reasons that Steven probably has the right idea and sets the beer down. “Anyway, I’m not talking about your trailer stuff, I’m talking about your stuff. I’ve got to believe a guy this obsessed with boring music writes stuff off the clock.”

“Film score is not boring, Charlie, we’ve been over this. Just because there are no words doesn’t mean it doesn’t tell a story.”

“Alright, so prove it to me.”

Steven huffs. “Well I can’t just play something for you right here out of nowhere. There’s no meaning. It has to mean something. Music has to mean something.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Since when does music have to mean anything? Do you listen to the radio?”

“Well, no, but that’s not at all the point here. The point is that even terrible canned pop music means something, to someone. If it isn’t resonant it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“Ahh, you’re right, that’s why film score gets so big on the Billboard 100.”

“Fuck off Charlie, this isn’t...I don’t mean it being a hit, or anything. I know full well that nothing I write is ever going to go anywhere, it isn’t going to be remembered or celebrated like the fucking Grammys.”

Charlie feels guilty instantly. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t. It’s fine.”

"Sorry."

Steven sounds tired. "It's okay, seriously, I've heard far worse, at least you're nice about it." He offers Charlie a smile, and they feel their heart flutter. Something about Steven just makes Charlie feel bright and warm and happy. They can't put a name to it, it's just...something.

"I was serious though," Charlie says at last. "I want to hear something you wrote, I want to hear it in person."

"Why?"

"Because you love it and I want to understand. Maybe I'll like it so much that you'll make me renounce my evil ways and I'll finally shun all pop music for good."

Steven laughs at that, and the tightness Charlie hadn't even noticed in their chest fades away.

"I don't know, I've been working on Chris for years and I haven't had much success."

Charlie smirks at him. "Try me."  
*******************************************  
Chris almost turns around three different times on her way to Ginny’s. Just what on earth does she think she’s doing?

“Breathe,” she tells herself firmly as the cab driver points out that they’re going through the “second-longest covered bridge in Vermont” as if she should be impressed after living in the Golden Gate state or whatever they call it now.

Perhaps she’s turning a bit cynical on this trip. Or, rather, she’s going back to being cynical despite running away across the country to avoid it. Steven probably will not be impressed. Steven also was probably not stupid enough to fuck a person from a different state their first night in town, so he’s got her beat in more ways than one.

The driver pulls up to the curb outside what Chris assumes is Ginny’s house, and she gets out and pays, wondering if she’s making another mistake or not here. This just feel too...intimate, somehow. She’s fucked the girl and she suddenly feels self-conscious about meeting her children, how sad is that?

Gathering up her courage, Chris knocks on the front door and waits. There’s silence on the other side, and Chris almost manages to fool herself into thinking Ginny isn’t home before the door swings open, revealing Ginny with a girl who is probably somewhere between the ages of four and seven--Chris is shit at guessing kids’ ages--clinging to Ginny’s leg.

“Hi,” Ginny says, sounding exhausted. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Chris says like she hasn’t spent the past two hours thinking up reasons to bail.

“This is Olivia,” Ginny says, extracting the child from her leg and scooping her up. “And Sophie is...” Ginny glances around behind her. “Liv where is your sister?”

Olivia shrugs, and her expression suddenly makes her look so much like Ginny Chris can’t help but laugh.

“Why don’t I help you look?” Chris offers, and Ginny smiles gratefully, stepping aside to let Chris in.

“Your house is beautiful,” Chris tells her as she unwinds her scarf, looking around what must be the living room.

“Well, it’s hardly Charlie’s place, but it’s nice. It works well for us.” She smiles at Olivia. “Doesn’t it?”

Olivia nods and Ginny sets her down.

“I think she’s probably in the kitchen--we were making cookies. I’ll be right back,” Ginny tells her, throwing the words over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen, leaving Chris alone with a kid.

They stand in silence, and Chris gets the uneasy feeling the girl is sizing her up.

“Who are you?” she asks finally, looking up at Chris in confusion.

“I’m Chris Noel.” She extends her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Nailed it.

Olivia shakes her hand, offering her own name in response. “Are you babysitting us tonight?”

Chris laughs because wouldn’t that be something to see: Chris Noel looking after two children.

“No, no, I’m your mom’s, uh, friend. I’m just here to say hi.”

“Oh.” Olivia seems to be puzzling over something. “Mom never has people over, except Charlie.”

Chris smiles at her. “Maybe I’m just special.” For some reason, Olivia beams at this.

“And here’s Sophie,” Ginny announced grandly, and a little girl who looks a little younger than Olivia runs into the room, Ginny right behind her.

“Come see the cookies I made!” she shrieks, tugging at Chris’ skirt and urging her towards the kitchen.

Chris glances at Ginny in alarm, but Ginny just laughs and shakes her hand, shooing her off to follow Sophie.

“Oh, wow, those are beautiful,” Chris coos, because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with kids? She can totally do this.

The cookies are, of course, fairly hideous looking, with four different colors of frosting and far too many sprinkles on one corner with completely bare patches everywhere else. The kitchen is a mess, the kind that would send Chris into vapors if it were her own kitchen, but which Ginny seems weirdly charmed by. Sophie beams with pride as everyone admires her creations.

“We’re leaving these out for Santa,” she tells Chris, which she can tell must be a great honor.

“He’ll be pretty impressed,” Chris tells her seriously. “They look delicious.”

“Here, you can have one,” Sophie offers, shoving a particularly overloaded cookie towards her.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. Wouldn’t Santa miss this one?”

“There are more in the fridge,” Sophie reassures her.

“Don’t you want to eat this one?” Chris tries, but she can already tell she’s going to lose this one. She looks up to see that Ginny is smothering her laughter behind her hand. Chris sticks her tongue out at her. “Alright, let’s have it.” She holds her hand out and Sophie gives it to her gleefully. Chris takes a bite from the part with the least frosting and swallows as quickly as she can. “Mmm, that’s great, Sophie! Ginny, come try some of this.” Two can play at this game.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to take it from you, enjoy it, it’s all yours,” Ginny tells her.

“But Sophie made them special! Don’t you want to try some of your daughter’s hard work?”

Ginny is glaring at her, but somehow still smiling, so Chris feels she’s probably forgiven.

After the cookies, Ginny turns to Chris and tells her, "Hey, so we usually watch Christmas movies until the girls fall asleep on Christmas Eve and if you aren't up for that I totally get it, please don't feel obligated-"

"Hey, don't worry about it. It will be fun. What are we watching?"

Ginny raises an eyebrow and says, more loudly, "I don't know, what are we watching girls?"

"Rudolph!" they shriek, Sophie jumping off the chair she had been standing on to reach the counter.

"Rudolph," Ginny repeats to Chris. "You up for some reindeer games?"

"You need to never say those words like that again because I'm feeling a little turned on and I really don't want to examine that," Chris tells her quietly, and she's rewarded by learning that Ginny snorts when she laughs in surprise.

They end up curled up on the couch, all four of them, the girls in the middle. They fall asleep before the end of the second movie, which is Frosty the Snowman, and Ginny carefully slides out from under Olivia. Chris tries to escape from Sophie, who had taken a shine to her and is currently cuddled up against her chest, but finds she lacks the finesse that comes from what she expects is Ginny's years of experience.

"Help," she says, and Ginny laughs and gently picks Sophie up.

"Here, I'm going to tuck them in and I'll be back in a minute."

"Don't be silly, I'll help," Chris says, but then realizes she has no idea how to pick a sleeping kid up without waking them. "Uh."

"Just go slowly," Ginny offers, and Chris barely resists throwing back "that's not what you said earlier" because she is not a teenage boy.

She eventually manages to lift Sophie up and carry her into the bedroom the girls apparently share.

"I'll move somewhere bigger when they get older and need their own space, but for now, they think it's fun," Ginny had explained. "It's like a sleepover every night."

Chris finally gives in and asks the question she's had on her mind since Ginny first told her she had daughters.

"How long ago did...?"

"Two years," she says quietly. She won't look at Chris and it's making her heart ache. They've gone back into the kitchen for coffee, since Ginny needs to refuel for a long night of putting out presents and an early morning of unwrapping them. "I married this guy pretty much right out of high school--it was probably stupid, we were high school sweethearts and all that--and I had Olivia six years ago and then Sophie two years later. And then two years ago, he got into his car to go to work and he just...didn't come back. I got the call a couple hours later. Car accident. It was quick, they said."

"God, I'm so sorry," Chris whispers. She and Ginny are the same age but Ginny has seen and been through more than she could even dream of.

"It's alright. That's life, isn't it?" She takes a sip of coffee. "Anyway, I haven't dated anyone since then so I'm sorry if I'm a bit out of practice."

"No, gosh no. You're," Chris can't even grasp the right word for Ginny. "You're fantastic, you're funny, you're exciting..."

"Careful there. I might not let you go if you keep talking like that."

“I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

This feels dangerously like a Moment and Chris wonders if she should feel more scared than she does.

“So,” Ginny says finally. “How do you feel about helping me out playing Santa?”  
******************************************  
Charlie probably shouldn’t be as surprised as they are when the doorbell rings around six on Christmas Eve.

“Hey,” Steven says when Charlie opens the door. Charlie’s heart soars.

“Hey. What are you doing here? It’s Christmas Eve. You must have far more interesting people to be spending your evening with.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, come in then, I haven’t had dinner yet. I hope you weren’t expecting anything nice, though. I try to avoid all that over-the-top turkey-baking-in-the-oven-all-day stuff since my Christmases at home weren’t always...the best. It’s literally just macaroni and cheese.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Steven says, and Charlie doesn’t even think Steven’s making fun of them when he says it.

They walk into the dining room that’s just off of Chris’s kitchen, where a giant bowl of macaroni cheese sits in the middle of the table. All of Chris’ furniture is sleek and modern and bigger than it probably needs to be, and the meal Charlie has prepared looks so out of place it’s laughable. Charlie doesn’t know very much about Chris, but they’ve gathered from her house that she is a) very rich, b) very important (probably a workaholic), and c) likely extremely out of her element over at Charlie’s house. Seriously. They barely even have hot water back home, whereas she has a fucking jacuzzi tub.

“I wasn’t kidding about the mac and cheese,” they tell Steven, feeling weirdly nervous suddenly. Somehow, they’re concerned that Steven will be disappointed, that they’re letting him down. They don’t ever, ever want to let him down. Fuck.

“Good, it sounds fantastic and I’m starving.”

“Oh, so you just show up and expect to be fed, that’s how it is?” Charlie asks, barely able to keep from breaking and cracking up.

Steven is blushing for some reason Charlie can’t fathom.

“I, uh, I wrote something. If you wanted to hear it.”

It takes Charlie a second. “Oh, music! You wrote a new song?”

“Yeah,” Steven grins sheepishly. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought-”

“No, I want to! I can’t believe you wrote a piece in one night, oh my god, you’re fucking amazing.”

“It wasn’t so hard, I had a pretty good source of inspiration,” Steven shrugs, but Charlie is still impressed as hell.

“Play it for me after dinner?”

“Sounds like a deal.”

They serve themselves mac and cheese and talk and laugh, and it all feels so natural Charlie finds it hard to believe they’ve known Steven for less than a week. They feel like they’ve known him forever.

“Do you want anything else? I can make coffee,” Charlie offers as they clear the table.

“Sure, coffee sounds great.”

“Here, why don’t you go figure out if the piano in the living room is tuned to your standards and I’ll be right back, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

Steven sits down at the piano that is inexplicably in Chris’ house (Charlie would bet good money she has never touched the thing) and Charlie laughs as they hear Steven start playing The Office theme song. They toss the dishes in the sink, swearing to get to them later, and start up the coffeemaker. Steven has moved onto jingle bells, which Charlie gets the feeling he picked purposefully to be obnoxious.

“It works!” he hollers, and Charlie’s heart actually feels like it is skipping beats and what the fuck is happening.

They grab the edge of the counter and debate the merits of splashing cold water on their face to get a grip. Because falling in love on vacation? Sooooo not part of the plan.

Charlie starts to walk into the living room, a hot coffee in one hand and hot chocolate for themself clutched in the other, when they hear that Steven has started playing something new. Charlie pauses in the doorway and just listens. They can’t even begin to describe the music soaring through the room. There are bursts of an impossible joy, happiness beyond anything Charlie has ever known, full of light, a childlike wonder. And then at the same time it feels like every time Charlie has ever cried, like every heartbreak they’ve ever felt. It’s burning and burden and brokenness and Charlie has to stomp down the urge to fix it, to fix this ragged thing coming from Steven’s fingers. It sounds like falling in love and falling apart all at once and Charlie wants to just bathe in it, wants to map the roads of the song, wants to paint the walls the color of these notes.

“I think,” and it isn’t until they hear the way their voice is shaking that they realize how much the music has affected them, that they have teared up. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

Steven tenses and stops playing, whirling around to face Charlie; evidently, he hadn’t noticed Charlie reappearance. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, just staring at Charlie with something like fear. He looks so lost that Charlie regrets speaking at all. They just want Steven to continue playing.

“Was that for a new trailer?” he tries, just wanting Steven to say something, anything.

“No, I. I.” Steven swallows hard, searching for words. “No, it’s—I wrote it for, uh. You.” He swallows again and looks away, his blush noticeable even in profile.

Charlie’s heart is pounding rapidly, hammering in their chest. There are a hundred different things Charlie wants to ask or do or say but all that comes out is, “Why does it sound so sad?”

Steven looks back at them and asks so softly Charlie almost misses it, “Why do you?”

Without even consciously making the decision, Charlie has set down the drinks and is crossing the room, kissing Steven before they even have time to process everything. Steven kisses back almost immediately, grabbing the front of Charlie's shirt with one hand and holding the back of Charlie's neck with the other.

"Oh my god," he breathes, then goes back to kissing them. Charlie wholeheartedly agrees. Steven's glasses are slightly in the way, but if Steven doesn't mind, Charlie certainly doesn't. All they want is this, Steven's mouth against theirs, Steven's hands all over them, Steven.

"Oh my god," Charlie says as they break the kiss, echoing Steven's earlier sentiments. "We should talk about this, maybe?"

"I've wanted you from the moment I showed up at Chris' door and introduced myself," Steven tells Charlie.

"Okay, good, we've talked about it. Bedroom? Now?"

Steven nods vigorously, leaning in and kissing Charlie again. It's a hungry kiss, full of promise, and Charlie only pulls away because they don't want to do this in Chris' living room.

"Just so we're clear," Charlie adds as an afterthought as they press Steven against the doorframe and kiss him again (it's sloppy and completely lacking in skill and Charlie cannot find it in then to care right now). "I was half in love with you from day one."

"Fuck," is Steven's answer, and they all but collapse onto the bed, still kissing desperately.  
*************************************************  
"So," Chris starts. They've been up for hours now, putting bows and finishing touches on gifts, wrapping last minute presents, shoving everything under the tree. Chris finds that her eye for design comes in handy in figuring out how best to arrange the pile under the tree to show it off in the best light for the girls. "You can say no-"

"Always a good start to a sentence," Ginny quips.

"-but I'd love to spend Christmas morning with you and the girls."

Ginny looks floored, and Chris wonders if she was truly that bad with the kids.

"Really? It won't be super fun for you, it's going to be an early morning and a lot of screaming. You really don't have to."

"I know. I want to." She swallows and searches for an excuse, a way she can somehow make this casual. "I worked hard getting those gifts under the tree, I feel I've earned the pleasure of seeing them get decimated on Christmas morning."

Ginny is looking at her in a way that says she sees right through her, though.

"Okay," she says softly. She turns to the coffee table where Sophie's cookies sit waiting. "Take a bite out of this and you've got a deal."

"They aren't as bad as they look," Chris says defensively as she takes a bite before setting it back on the plate. "There. Now Santa has appreciated her creations." What would Steven think of her if he could see her now?  
*************************************************  
Charlie and Steven are lying on their backs staring at the ceiling and trying to catch their breath.

"Wow," Charlie exhales, and Steven makes a noise of agreement.

"I think I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?" Steven ventures.

"Is that even a question?"

They get up and follow Steven into the bathroom (and totally check out Steven's ass with 100% less guilt than before, which is nice) and watch as he waits for the water to get hot enough. Steven steps into the shower, then pokes his head back out, setting his glasses down on the counter as he does.

"You coming?"

Charlie steps in to join him and silently thanks Chris for having ridiculous amounts of money and using it to buy such a lovely, big shower.

"You're fucking beautiful," Charlie tells Steven as they check him out under the pretense of reaching for the soap.

"Shut up," Steven says, swatting Charlie's ass as he grabs the shampoo, and oh fuck, they can definitely revisit that one later.

"I'm being completely serious. Look," because if they want to do this, Steven has to know what he's signing up for. "I'm not very good at this. My last boyfriend broke up with me only a year ago, and he's getting married now and it really fucked me up. A lot of things have fucked me up, actually." And now they're spiralling, yeah, good one Charlie. This is going well.

"Hey," Steven says, grabbing Charlie by the shoulders and looking them in the eye. "Wow, you're fucking blurry." He swipes at his eyes a moment before focusing. "We've all got baggage, alright? I'm not anywhere in the neighborhood of perfect myself. You've dealt with shit, and that's okay. I want to know that stuff, I want to hear all about you. I want to know you, okay? I like you a lot. A lot a lot. And your flaws and past, those things don't scare me. You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

Charlie kisses him. "Thank you. Sorry. It happens."

"I don't mind."

"Listen, talking is cool, and we should totally do more of it very soon, but I really want to blow you right now, cool?"

"Yeah, fuck, please."

As Christmas Eves go, this has been one of the best Charlie's ever had.  
**************************************************  
"Mommy! Mommy! Wake up wake up wake up!" is the greeting they receive at an ungodly hour of the morning. There's no way kids don't possess some lurking dark magic, how else would they be this awake at whatever-the-fuck-o-clock?

"Sophie, Sophie!" Ginny is saying, somehow both firm and kind. "Stop shouting. We'll be down in two minutes, okay? Is Olivia up?" Sophie tells her she is, and Ginny tells her to get her sister and meet them in the living room. "But don't open anything without us," she adds, and Sophie sulks.

"I warned you."

"And I told you, I want to stay."

They'd wound up sharing Ginny's bed--it was all very pg, to Chris' mild chagrin--and Chris has a moment of panic that she'd been caught in the bedroom by Ginny's daughter before realizing there's no way the innuendo would be picked up by the girls anyway.

“Merry Christmas,” Ginny tells her sleepily, once Sophie has left. She leans in and kisses Chris, far more tenderly than the way they’d kissed that first night. Chris bites Ginny’s lip, then sucks on her tongue, not hard enough to hurt but enough to let Ginny know that later, when the packages have been opened and the girls are asleep, Chris is still very, very interested.

“Shit, come on, if we don’t stop now I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” Ginny insists, rolling over and climbing out of bed. She tosses Chris a pair of slippers to match her borrowed pajamas and walks out of the bedroom.

“Did Santa come last night?” she calls out as she walks into the room. Sophie is already arms deep in gifts, after diving headfirst into the pile under the tree, and Olivia is busy trying to get her stocking down from the fireplace. Chris goes over and takes it down for her, and pulls Sophie’s off the hook too, handing it to her.

Ginny sits on the floor near the tree, watching the girls scoping out which presents are theirs with the kind of smile Chris has only ever seen on mothers’ faces. She sits down beside her.

“Is it like this every year?”

“Yes and no. As they get older, they start to understand it better, so the excitement is bigger, but Olivia’s getting to the age where she’s started pretending she likes opening clothes and where she says thank you after every gift. I think it’s probably a ‘look how well-behaved I am next to this wild animal’ thing, but it’s still nice. I hope it lasts.”

“They’re good kids,” Chris tells her honestly, laughing, as Sophie throws a pair of socks over her shoulder with barely a glance, tearing into the next gift with renewed intensity.

“Wow!” Sophie shouts as she unwraps some toy that Chris can’t even begin to make sense of--she suddenly feels very old in light of these new, complex toys. She has the urge to say something like “back in my day...”

Olivia has unwrapped a great number of outfits with much more poise than her younger sister, which is actually even more hilarious. The put-upon dignity evaporates when she unwraps a toy she has clearly been asking for for months, and she throws her arms around Ginny’s neck in delight.

Chris certainly hadn’t expected to spend her Christmas vacation watching someone else’s daughters tear into their Christmas presents, but she realizes, as she helps shove discarded wrapping paper into a trash bag, that she can't imagine her trip any other way.

Ginny had charitably added "and Chris" in the From section of the gift tags, and the girls hug her and almost always remember to say thank you as they open their presents. And somewhere between turning on the Christmas tree lights and going into the kitchen to make post-resent brunch, Chris falls in love.  
***************************************************************************  
Charlie wakes up on Christmas with Steven Meeks in their arms and they don’t ever want to move again.

Steven’s still asleep, his face tucked into the crook of Charlie’s neck, his arm slung over Charlie’s chest. Charlie just lies there a moment, feeling the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes. This is probably dangerous--Charlie’s going home in a few days, and they can’t just expect Steven to pick up everything and come with them--and they might be setting themelf up for even more heartbreak down the line, but Charlie can’t help it. Charlie doesn’t even care. Steven would be worth getting their heart broken.

Chris’ phone rings suddenly, loud, sharp, cutting through the lovely quiet of the morning, and Charlie curses as they reach for the phone on the dresser, trying not to disturb Steven in the process. It’s too late, though; he’s already stirring awake.

“Hello?” they say, trying their best not to make their irritation obvious.

“Charlie!” comes Ginny’s voice over the phone. “Merry Christmas, asshole, and no thanks to you for calling.”

“Ginny, it’s,” Charlie glances at the alarm clock, “Seven in the morning. I wasn’t even awake.”

“Oh, right. Time difference. Sorry!” she doesn’t sound sorry.

“Who is it?” Steven mumbles, rubbing his eyes sleepily and reaching for his glasses.

There’s silence on the other end of the call, and then suddenly, “Oh my god. Is there someone there with you? And I woke you up? Oh my god.”

“Shut up, Ginny, aren’t you happy for me or something?”

A muffled voice on the other end says, “Wait wait, who’s there with them?” and then a moment later, more clearly, “Steven? Is that you?”

“Chris?” Steven says confusedly.

“What the hell is going on here?” Charlie asks, because they’re tired and they were rudely interrupted and it’s too early to piece this mess of a conversation together.

“So, did we all just hook up with people on vacation?” Ginny asks finally.

“Basically,” Steven says at the same time that Chris offers, “Yep.”

“Right. Well, I will high five you when you get home, Charlie, but for now, I’ll leave you to whatever it is you’re doing.” And with that, she hangs up.

“I’m super confused right now,” Steven says, and Charlie agrees but feels they can at least shed a little light on the matter.

“My step-sister and Chris are hanging out--hooking up, actually, it sounds like.” They pause, frowning. “Actually, it’s Christmas morning, there’s no way Ginny isn’t at home with the kids, so Chris is probably there with her. Wow. That’s serious, then.”

“Good job, Chris,” Steven says. He falls back onto his pillow. “Okay. I’m sleeping now.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Charlie agrees, and they cuddle up to Steven again until they’ve fallen asleep once more.  
**************************************************************  
Chris takes Ginny and the girls out to dinner (Ginny is endlessly grateful not to have to cook, because apparently she’s crap at it). She hasn’t gone out to dinner with anyone but Knox or Steven in ages, and it’s fun. It’s fun when the girls get children’s menus and keep shoving crayons at her, begging her to play tic-tac-toe with them. It’s fun when Ginny get bullied by the girls into doing this seriously ridiculous thing involving putting her napkin on her head that has the girls absolutely shrieking with laughter. It’s fun when other patrons in the restaurant glance over at the table and smile at each other in that knowing way as they watch Sophie and Olivia’s antics. Chris had thought awhile ago that she didn’t want children, that she wasn’t interested in building a family, but Sophie and Olivia are proving her wrong. And Ginny. Oh, Ginny.

Ginny tries to fight her for the check, but Chris insists, telling her that it was her idea to take them out to dinner anyway. She eventually gives in, thanking Chris, and starts helping the girls into their coats. As they get into Ginny’s car, Chris realizes that she really, really doesn’t want to go back to Charlie’s house. Not alone, anyway. She isn’t interested in time to herself anymore, she doesn’t want this vacation without Ginny and Sophie and Olivia.

“Are you going to stay at our house again?” Sophie asks.

Ginny glances at Chris.

“You girls woke us up very early, she’s probably ready to go sleep in her own bed.”

“I’m really not,” Chris says, pleased that she only sounds a little bit desperate. “I mean...if you don’t mind, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Please mommy?” Sophie begs, and Chris loves these kids, she loves them a lot.

“Well, if she wants to stay, of course she can.” Chris doesn’t miss the edge of hopefulness in Ginny’s voice.

“Then I guess you’ll all have to put up with me for a whole more night,” Chris tells them, and Sophie and Olivia turn to each, grinning excitedly.

“It’s okay if you wanted to go home, I understand,” Ginny says in a hushed voice. “You’ve put up with a lot.”

“It was my pleasure. And seriously, I told you, I want to hang out with you girls. Don’t you trust me to decide what I want to do on my own vacation.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

When they arrive back at Ginny’s house, the girls run into the living room, whispering loudly to each other and glancing back at Chris over and over again.

“What are you two up to?” she asks, following them into the living room.

“Do you want to help us make a pillow fort?” Olivia asks in a rush.

Chris is surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “I’d be honored. Where do we start?”

Olivia instructs her, often with Sophie’s loud input, on how to build up the fort, which blankets and cushions to use where, and the best strategies for keeping it from collapsing.

“What is this?” Ginny laughs, coming into the room with a tray of what Chris guesses is hot chocolate.

“Surprise!” Olivia and Sophie yell, popping out of their makeshift tent in delight. Ginny points to the hot chocolate, and they clamber over to it, each grabbing their own mugs (Sophie’s features Ariel and Olivia’s is emblazoned with Belle) and carrying them back over to the fort.

“Careful not to spill,” Ginny calls, shaking her head in amusement as Chris abandons the fort for the cocoa tray. “It’s not terribly hot, sorry. I didn’t want the girls to burn themselves.”

“It’s fine, it’s good,” she says as she takes another sip.

“So,” Ginny says, and this sounds like a Conversation with a capital C. “you’re leaving in two days.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

They sip their drink in silence.

“Look. If this is a fun thing for the holidays, that’s okay, it really is, I don’t expect anything, but I’d rather you just tell me now. I can bounce back, probably, but I think the girls will be miserable if you just disappear after all of this. I don’t know if you noticed, but they kind of adore you.”

“And how about you?”

Ginny blushes and looks down into her mug to avoid Chris’ eyes.

“I kind of adore you, too,” she admits.

“I don’t know what we’re going to end up doing. You have a life here and I have a life in LA. We both have a lot going on, we live in completely different places, but I want this to work, Ginny. I’ll do what I have to do. I mean, shit, if you want me to move here, I’ll figure something out. We can do this, I know we can. If you want to, I want to.”

Ginny looks back up at her, smiling wryly. “It’s funny. If you and Charlie hadn’t gone through bad break-ups, I wouldn’t even know you existed. In a weird way, and maybe this is selfish, I’m glad you were upset enough to want to leave. Because now I get to have you, in whatever way you’ll have me, and I don’t want to give you back.”

Chris leans in and kisses her, once, twice, three times. “I’m yours. We’ll work this out. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

They turn back to the pillow fort, in which the girls are sitting and giggling and drinking their cocoa, twin hot chocolate mustaches above their lips.

“Do you guys want to watch another Christmas movie?” Ginny asks, walking over and going to set up the tv. Chris settles into the pillow fort, and Sophie promptly sits on her lap, leaning back on her like a chair. Olivia sits next to her, leaning her head against Chris’ arm, and Ginny sits on Chris’ other side, taking Chris’ hand in her own without a word.

The tv reveals that Ginny has put in The Muppets’ Christmas Carol. Sitting surrounded by this family that she loves, Chris realizes that two days from now, when she gets on that plane, she won’t be going home. Home is here, in this pillow fort, drinking cocoa and laughing and snuggling with these people.  
**********************************************************************  
Charlie and Steven wake up again around eleven, a far more reasonable wake-up call as far as Charlie's concerned, and wind up wasting (if one could call it that) another hour in bed because Charlie hasn't had morning sex in ages and they've missed it. Steven is the best they've ever had, no contest, and not just because he's the most recent. Charlie feels love and trust with Steven, things they struggle with at the best of time, let alone in just a few days.

"Steven?" Charlie asks, pulling away from kissing him. They're straddling Steven and it's perhaps not the most opportune time or place for this conversation, but what the hell. They're already about as far as a pair can get from conventional. "Do you see this going somewhere? Like, after this trip ends? It's all new and exciting now, but do you actually, you know, want to keep me around? You might come to hate me once the honeymoon phase has gone away, you might find out I'm annoying and moody and realize you don't want me after all."

"Charlie, I already told you that I want this. I want you. I like you. I might even love you, I don't know. I want so badly for this to work, and maybe that's crazy, I mean, you live on the complete opposite end of the country, but I think we could make it. I really think we could."

Charlie kisses him then, leaning down and running their fingers through his hair. They rest their forehead against Steven's.

"Okay. I'm in."

"You're in?"

"I have to go home, that much we know, but after that? Who knows. We'll figure it out, we'll make it up as we go along, just please don't leave me."

"Never."

After that, Charlie's in less of a mood to fuck, so they make out with Steven awhile longer instead and then get up off the bed.

"Breakfast?"

"Sure. Oh, and merry Christmas," Steven adds.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything, I have been with you basically every second of this week."

"Hey, you gave me a very nice blowjob earlier, that totally counts."

The doorbell rings as Charlie's finishing the scrambled eggs, and Steven offers to finish them while Charlie answers.

They pull the door open and the instant regret is like nothing they have ever experienced before.

"Hi," Neil says, and he seems a little nervous, which Charlie has to admit is nice.

"What the fuck about me leaving specifically to avoid you made it seem like this would be okay?" is the first thing out of Charlie's mouth. Their heart has sped up, but Charlie doesn't think it's attraction anymore; it's anger. How dare Neil spoil this after everything they've been through?

"Who is it?" Steven calls from the kitchen, and the look on Neil's face is almost worth this whole shitfest.

"Were you--are you-"

"Yeah, I'm kind of seeing someone. Can you make this quick? What did you want?"

Neil regains his composure. "Right. Look, I wanted to apologize."

"I'm listening."

"I'm really trying here, alright? I know I fucked up pretty badly, really badly, and I hurt you. I'm miserable about it, Charlie. I miss you. I miss being your best friend."

Charlie huffs a laugh. "Yeah, if you're here to try to win me back as your bff, don't hold your breath." Neil looks crestfallen, and Charlie sighs. All the anger has evaporated out of them; they just feel tired. They're so tired of this, and if this is their chance to finish off this thing between them, they need to do this right. "Look, Neil, you're not a bad guy. What you did to me was really shitty, but you're not a bad guy. And Todd is very lucky, don't think I'm not happy for you. It just really sucks, okay? Did you think about me at all during any of it? At any point did you feel any guilt or regret or anything at all? Did you think maybe you should fucking tell me you were getting married before I made an ass of myself?" Rein it in, Dalton. He can't hurt you anymore. "I'm over you now, alright? Give me some time, and then we'll talk about maybe being friends again. I miss you too, obviously. I just can't do it right now, okay?"

Neil nods. "Yeah, I understand." He shuffles uncomfortably. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are," Charlie says, and finds they really mean it. And hey, Neil? You are lucky as hell that you have Todd. Don't fucking forget it. Don't fuck that up too." It comes out a little sterner than Charlie intended, but Neil seems to receive the message loud and clear. "Good. Now go back to Vermont, seriously, why the hell did you fly to Los Angeles to apologize?"

"You wouldn't answer your phone."

Charlie actually laughs at that. "Same old Neil." They glance back into the house, and hope Steven isn't worried or anything. "Alright, go home. We can catch up later."

"Good bye, Charlie."

"Good bye, Neil."

And then he's gone like nothing happened. Charlie watches him go, and feels suddenly like an enormous weight has been lifted off of them. They turn and walk back into the house with a bit of a spring in their step, wrapping their arms around Steven's waist and kissing his cheek once they're back in the kitchen.

"Well hi to you too," Steven laughs, turning around and kissing Charlie properly. "Who was at the door? You were gone longer than I expected."

"You wouldn't even believe me if I told you," Charlie says, because it's the truth.

Steven hands Charlie a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and says, "You've got a whole meal to tell me. Try me."

Charlie grins, and starts.  
****************************************************  
"Today's the day," Ginny says softly when Chris wakes up. Those were the absolute last words Chris wanted to hear. She's been dreading this day, was dreading it before she even met Ginny; now it's damn near unbearable.

"My flight isn't until later, I don't want to think about it until I have to," Chris tells her. They spent the night at Charlie's, since Ginny managed to get her babysitter to work the night so she and Chris could have their last night together. Chris kisses Ginny, but it feels sad; already she can feel them slipping apart. "I don't want to go."

"Then don't," Ginny says, throwing her arms around Chris and clinging to her. "Stay with me."

"I can't," Chris tells her, hating herself for it. "I have work and my house and Charlie will be wanting their home back...I've got to go."

"I know," Ginny says, but she still sounds totally miserable. Chris holds one of her hands, holding it close to her chest, as if somehow Ginny will be able to keep her here if she just holds on.

They get dressed in near-silence, and then Ginny drives them both back to her house. They're telling the girls that Chris has to go home but that they're going to visit her really soon, and they seem mostly okay with this, although they are pouting pretty bad.

Chris' flight is at 2:20, and she must hug all three of them at least ten times each before departure. Ginny is driving her to the airport, and the girls beg to come along, but Ginny tells them it's too close to Sophie's naptime, and that Gloria will be over in a minute to take care of them while she and Chris are gone.

Sophie clings to Chris' leg as she moves toward the door, and she picks her up, pulling her into one last teary-eyed hug before setting her down.

"I'll see you girls soon, I promise," she tells them, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Okay. Let's do this thing," Ginny says.

The drive is a quiet, contemplative one.

"Hey," Chris says gently. "I'll fly you and the girls in as soon as you want, okay? It will be fine. You'll see."

"I'm going to miss you so much," Ginny tells her, as if she hadn't even heard Chris, or, worse, as if what Chris said didn't change things.

Ginny pulls up to the loading zone for Chris' airline and helps her unload her bags. Just before Chris checks her suitcase, Ginny pulls her into a sudden, fierce hug. Chris holds her just as tightly.

"Call me as soon as you land, okay?" Ginny says, discretely wiping away a tear.

"I will," Chris promises. "This isn't goodbye. Just...goodbye for now."

"Goodbye for now," Ginny agrees. "I love you."

Chris' breath catches, but it isn't even a question when she answers "I love you too."

Ginny gets back into her car, glancing at Chris every few seconds as she does so, and then she's gone. Chris watches as the car disappears, then refocuses. Or, tries to.

Just what the hell is she doing? What the fuck is so important at home that she's leaving behind the best thing that has ever happened to her? Work can wait, right? She doesn't even have a new project, she's been checking her email and everything just in case. And the house? The house does fine without her there. What's another day, or two, or five?

"Miss? Can I help you with your bag?" the man at the baggage check-in asks.

Chris considers it.

"No. No, actually, I need to get a cab."  
*********************************************  
Charlie’s packing when Steven wakes up that morning.

“No,” he says, and Charlie would love to just stop, to agree with Steven and stay here forever. But they can’t. Chris will be back in a few hours and will certainly want her home back, Charlie has to go back to work in a week and Steven will certainly have to get back to his job and his life without Charlie. It will be like nothing ever happened, really. But they’ll skype, they’ll text each other, Steven will come visit them in Vermont soon, it will be fine.

It still fucking sucks.

Breakfast is a quiet affair, and Charlie wonders if he’s already losing him, if even now Steven is mulling over how to tell Charlie that this isn’t going to work, that he wants someone he can see any time he likes. That Charlie isn’t worth it. They know it will happen sooner or later, and maybe it’s better that it’s now and not in five years when they see each other once a year and no longer have anything to say to each other.

“Is there nothing I can say to make you stay?” Steven says as he carries Charlie’s suitcase downstairs and into the front entrance.

“You know how much I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t.”

Charlie sighs. “I want to stay. I want to be with you. But we both know that we have to return to our lives. I’ll call you when I get home, we’ll talk all the time, maybe I’ll get sent on a convenient business trip sometime soon.”

Steven smiles, but he looks so sad that Charlie takes the suitcase, sets it down on the floor, and pulls him into a kiss.

“It’s going to be okay,” Charlie says, for their own benefit as much as Steven. “You’ll see.”

Charlie’s cab to the airport arrives ten minutes later, and even though they've spent the whole morning kissing and cuddling and just touching each other in every way they can until they can’t anymore, Charlie still feels like they didn't get to say goodbye.

So they get in the cab, they go through the airport, they wait in the uncomfortable plastic chairs for their flight (which is delayed, of course, as if the universe is giving them time to make sure this is definitely the choice they want to be making) and then the board the plane, and they go home. It’s eerie how easy it feels, how the trip doesn’t seem like the hardest thing they’ve ever had to do.

Their baggage takes forever and a day to get in, and they’re so exhausted and drained by the time they get their luggage and get their cab home that they can’t wait to get drunk and pass out for a day or two.

It’s strange to see their house again. It’s familiar and completely new all at once. They’ve been so used to palm trees and city lights that their little home seems hopelessly nostalgic, like some relic of the past. They walk in, setting their suitcase down by the front door, and go to the kitchen with high hopes that Chris didn’t finish all their good beer.

“So,” Steven says, and Charlie nearly has a heart attack when they see him in the kitchen, looking for all the world like it’s where he’s always belonged. “About ten minutes after you left, I realized that there was no way in hell I was letting you go that easily. I called the airport on my way and got put on the waitlist for a flight into fucking New Hampshire, because that was the closest I could get, and my flight arrived about twenty minutes before yours was supposed to. I thought for sure you’d beat me here.”

“My flight got delayed,” Charlie says, finding their voice at last. “How did you-”

“I texted Chris for your address the second I landed. She did me one better and showed up to let me in. She stayed here, did you know? She’s at your sister’s house.”

Charlie is just looking at Steven, because they honestly cannot even believe this. This is the stuff of romantic comedies, movies where people hold up signs telling people they love them, where people make unrealistically long and sappy speeches at weddings and rehearsal dinners, where people find out the person they’ve been chatting with online is the guy they fell in love with in real life. There’s no way this is Charlie’s life.

“Oh my god,” they say finally, practically falling into Steven’s arms, and Steven holds him so tight Charlie can barely breathe, but they don’t even care. “Oh my god, I love you, I fucking love you,” Charlie says, kissing Steven so roughly their teeth clack together.

“So, did you maybe want some company for New Year’s Eve?” Steven asks when they pull apart.

Charlie pecks him on the cheek. “I’d love some.”

 

*****Epilogue*****

 

“Sophie, get in here, it’s almost time!” Ginny calls down the hall. Sophie has been delightedly telling Charlie, Steven, Chris, anyone who will listen that it’s going to be a WHOLE NEW YEAR today, and Ginny would hate for her to miss the actual countdown. Then again, she’s kind of stunned she’s even held up this long; Sophie’s usually out for the night by 9.

Sophie comes scampering down the hall and collapses in a fit of giggles in Chris’ lap, which has Chris cracking up too. Olivia is talking very seriously with Steven about Harry Potter, since she just started the book yesterday and she is suspicious that Steven might be a Weasley (“Stop laughing, Charlie, this is very serious business”).

The six of them have been spending all of New Year’s Eve together, and Charlie and Ginny keep giving each other amused looks because honestly what are the odds that they’d both end up with someone after a week’s house swap vacation? Charlie, once they’d properly met Chris, finds that they adore her, and they understand why Steven is best friends with her. They’d been a little worried Ginny was going to give Steven the obligatory Sibling Talk, but after five minutes of talking to Steven, she’d cheerfully informed him that he was much too good for Charlie, and told Charlie she liked Steven much better than them.

“Ten seconds!” Chris tells Sophie, who beams and begins all but screaming the countdown.

“Love you,” Charlie tells Steven, kissing him just as the countdown dies out and the people on the New Year’s Eve program they’re watching on tv begin cheering. It’s all very cliche, with confetti and “Auld Lang Syne” and everything. Charlie fucking loves it.

“Here’s to many more,” Chris smiles, then leans in and kisses Ginny. She pulls away and scoops up Sophie, who is shouting “Happy new year!” over and over again.

It's not perfect. They still have plenty to work out. They have jobs and families and lives, and they can't just leave it all behind. But they'll worry about those things later. For now, everything is okay.

“It certainly is a happy new year,” Chris agrees, looking around at the people in this house--this home and thinking about all the even happier new years to com _ _e._ _


End file.
